Morning mists
unveil the light

Her quiet time
awakes her mind

inciting lust
for sleeping knights

invade their lair

abscond the sheets

reveal the meat

take just a taste

a lick to wake

the dragon's mate

a startled hiss

precludes the heat

of burning breath

and silken depths

she rides the waves
of dragon fire

her treasure plundered
and all the while

the sour smell of dragon's breath
precludes the mint of morning's death


I woke him this morning with a cockkiss enticing him to indulge in the carnal equivalent of coffee. We both held our breath in courtesy to the other in an attempt to avoid our mutual morning/dragon breath.

I was a naughty girl last night

And he liked it.

I read naughty books

And he likes it.

I learn naughty things

From my naughty books.

I do naughty things

And he loves it.

I struggle

for my footing.

Reprimands

frequently surprise me.

Chastise me.

For what?

You say, "Ask."

I do.

Reprimanded once again.

I do not submit lightly

nor easily.

Yet you demand it

without giving knowledge in return.

You show me your world

But refuse to allow me in.

I am a shadow in the corner.

Glance past me.

Clean my cobwebs

but never illuminate my inner crevices.

Has my life been so charmed

that this struggle is the nature of the outsider?

A foreign experience

to the sliver spoon.

Or has it simply been

a strength of character

that allows me to turn away

from those who shun me?

Not today. I yearn to know this world that feels like a missing part of my soul.

Demands.

Grovel for acceptance.

Shed the layers you disapprove of.

I think not.

I refuse to submit.

And therefore must wander this path alone,

the blind leading the sightless.

Where shall we go?

I have been assured there is pain ahead.

Just as the pain echoes behind

in my cavern of ignorance.

We wander

together

alone

one wanting

one following

Who will show us the bloody light?

Who will bind us in erotic delight?

Who will guide us through mental chains so tight?

I do not know.

And I weep.

I will not submit

Not to the weak of mind.

But to the strong of heart.

Where are you?

Who are you?

Are you?

Stretch, shuffle.

Twitch, twist.

Fidget, fumble.

Click, Click.

Sigh. Snap.

I shut my laptop,

Pause the race,

Calm my thoughts.

I lower

My face,

My guards and my will.

I melt,

And close my eyes...

Becoming his pet.

A kitten, curled loose.

No purr required.

Such peace I find

Prone at his side,

Cheek warm and quiet against his thigh.

His eyes focus above me

On things of no import.

His fingers dance beside me,

A teasing sort of sport.

I catch those playful digits

like a nip-laced kitty toy.

His quiet laugh rewards me

and my pleasure overcomes

Any thoughts of powerful women,

Objectification or mere strife.

I know only the love he shows

to me, his pet and wife.

We dance without touching.
He cooks and I clean.

We smile through dinner.
A cozy home scene.

He kisses my cheek
In a jovial goodbye.

I sigh in relief
As he pulls out the drive.

I prepare my body,
My mind, and my space

With sweet scented candles
And chilled wine by my place.

A flick of the lights
Soothes the chaos inside

As I settle my macbook
Comfortably alongside

The refreshing white riesling
In the peace of the dark

On the couch in the silence
On a story, I embark!

These men, they whisper
They shout, and they moan.

Telling stories of love,
Laughter, heartache and home.

Love comes in all shapes
And all size and some

Even love in the strangest of ways,
Simply coming undone.

But no matter the conception
The manifest is the same.

Love pours from their hearts
To bathe their lover, no game.

While indulging my sweet tooth

An overzealous morsel

Melts.

Chocolate drizzles

Temptation across my chin.

Smiling, I call to him,

Doubting his response.

Gasp!

He licks.

My heart melts again.

She stirs,

A whisper of mischief in my chest.

Tilting hips and sparkling eyes,

All men are a possibility.

A challenge, in fact,

An exhilarating game.

A sleek black Mustang glides by.

She knows the man inside.

Hurrah! The chase is on.

Gravel skitters, a cold motor revs.

Power flows into 4 small cylinders.

No match for the Mustang,

But all the more fun for the trying.

Pedal-less shifting accompanies

A beautiful growl.

More like the roar of a kitten

compared to the power

Of the Mustang cum panther ahead

But the flex of tiny kitten claws

Delights her playful side.

She stirs.

A whisper of mischief in my breast.

He turns away.

Sleek matte black lines fade.

And her attention turns

To all the possibilities.

And the bass beat pounds

Sounding vaguely like a purr.

Lips mimicking the words

She stirs.

Today will be a good day.